


To Hear You Screaming My Name

by thejizzler



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, Bondage, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Reunions, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 04:05:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12357075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejizzler/pseuds/thejizzler
Summary: Ed's brain is all fixed up, but it's not enough to get a win over Oswald. Post-4x04 fic imagined to take place sometime in season 4B.





	To Hear You Screaming My Name

Ed gives the rope a final tug and circles Oswald to admire his handiwork, grinning like a shark.

Oswald’s arms are harnessed tight behind his back, the ropes’ braid an immaculate white against the black of Oswald’s suit. The loops and lines of the cord that encircle him are intricate, as full of fearful beauty as a spiderweb.

“I realize you’re in no position to appreciate this,” Ed says, still circling. “But you make _quite_ the pretty picture like this. This is a tie of my own design, did you know? Made special just for you.”

“I’m delighted to hear you’ve made such efficient use of your renewed brain power,” Oswald spits. “Classic Ed.”

Ed stops his circle at that, settling at Oswald’s front. He leans in, bringing a knuckle beneath Oswald’s chin and tilting it up with force.

Oswald’s teeth are bared, eyes furious.

“Oh, I’ve missed this,” Ed speaks with relish. “You, at my mercy. Nothing to do with all that self-important rage.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Oswald snarls. “The only version of you I miss is the one that was dead silent and suspended in ice.”

“Liar,” Ed says, teeth gritted. He releases his grip at Oswald’s chin with a shove.

Oswald raises an eyebrow at that. There’s a gleam in his eye that makes Ed’s blood go cold.

“What is it that you’ve missed exactly, Ed? Me at your mercy, or me gifting you my undivided attention?”

“I have no interest in your ‘undivided attention.’”

“It’s sad, isn’t it?” Oswald continues, as if Ed hadn’t spoken. “That you have to resort to this to get it? Sofia Falcone, Professor Pyg, hell, even Jim Gordon managed to catch my eye in the past few months without having to rely on some pathetic custom-made rope play.”

“Shut up,” Ed growls.

He hates himself for the inelegance of the response, and hates Oswald for forcing it. He hates, most of all, that he’s suddenly catching himself wondering if his brain isn’t as healed as he’d counted on it being when he’d arranged this.

“Clever,” Oswald laughs, and Ed feels stripped raw, like Oswald can see the insecurities gnawing at his insides. “Now, Ed, are you actually going to do anything to me, or did your plan stop at the bondage?”

“I said,” Ed spits. “Shut _up_.”

Oswald’s lips part again, face unbearably smug, and Ed does the only thing he can think to do to silence the coming sentence:

He grips Oswald by the throat and brings their mouths together in a move that feels more like a collision than a kiss.

It’s hard enough to hurt, lacking the tenderness of any kiss Ed has ever shared before, but there’s something uniquely white-hot about it. Oswald’s surprised, pained grunt reverberates against the roof of Ed’s mouth.

Ed pulls back to stare down at Oswald. All the smugness has fled his features, his cheeks bright with pink spots and his mouth hanging stupidly open. The harness that Ed had nearly forgotten was binding Oswald in place sharpens in Ed’s vision. His shark’s smile returns.

Oswald blinks up at him.

“Well?” Oswald says, voice trembling. “Are you going to do that again?”

“That and more,” Ed replies. It feels like a threat, but Oswald’s eyes go bright.

Ed smashes their mouths together, and the hungry moan that vibrates against his lips and in his ears sounds like two syllables sweetly surrendered:

_Riddler_.

Ed smiles into the kiss, then spins Oswald roughly around and slams him face-first against the nearest wall, hands working at the zipper of his pants.

“I’m going to make you scream it next,” Ed promises into the hot shell of Oswald’s ear.

“We’ll see,” Oswald half-says, half-moans. “Do your worst.”

Ed spreads his cheeks apart with a deft hand and does not need to say ‘ _oh, I will_.’


End file.
